Chapter 4

Chapter Four 

Logan Novak 

"General, are you seeing this?" I spoke into the microphone. I felt the presence of my squad members as they looked at the face of the man we'd just killed.

"Not clearly. Who is this?" His voice came through the device.

"Dave Sanchez," I answered. I heard his gasp via my ear piece. Surprise could barely explain what I or anyone else felt at the moment. In all the preparation to rescue the general's daughter, I'd never thought about meeting one of America's most wanted men on the rescue mission. Actually, we had no idea whom we would've encountered. It was like a blind-date, but with violence, and no actual date. A blind-mission.

This had always been

a life and death situation.

Looking at the face of one of the most dangerous men I knew, I snorted. He would've gotten away with this. We would have never found him if they hadn't sent the video. I paused for a moment to congratulate him on a job well done. However, as I thought about it, I questioned his motives. Did he purposely send that video- wanting to get caught, or did he expect the general to show up instead, unarmed and ready to die? Kidnapping the general's daughter meant he'd taken his hatred towards the man on a personal level.

He'd decided to blow his cover after years in hiding, tainted by his hatred for a man that only cared about people's safety. Thinking about this however, I realize that people do terrible things because of their hatred for others. Our hatred has caused us to hurt, kill, and betray others. Yet, it's human-nature.

Furthermore, how had he kept a low profile all these years with this level of stupidity? But, these men- these criminals- were impossible to understand.

General Anderson's voice broke me out of my reverie. "I.D the others. We need to know whether or not there were others with him on this." I nodded towards two members of the team to I.D the others, and they left, going in the direction of the front-yard where we'd killed the others. "Where is my daughter?" His voice comes on the line moments later, and I realize that we haven't exactly completed the rescue mission. Our reason for being here still wasn't completely free.

What if there was another man we hadn't detected? He would've shot her already, though. Criminals normally shot the hostage and themselves if they knew they wouldn't make it out alive. Shaking my head, I refused to believe my thoughts. The satellite had detected six men and they were already dead.

I heard the rattling of a doorknob, and turning around, I noticed Chris trying to open the door. With all the deadbolts for locks, I knew we would either have to shoot down the door or plant an explosive. We had no other tools to take down the door, and still no idea how far she's located from the door. We couldn't do anything that could possibly harm her.

Moving towards the body of Dave Sanchez, I searched his pockets for the keys. Finding the bunch, I moved towards the door, trying different locks. When finally, the door opened, I noticed a dark room. Not an ounce of light flooded from any part of the house. Using my flashlight, I searched until I found a switch. Fortunately, it was for a bulb hanging from the ceiling, and it was well on its way to possibly cause an electrical shock throughout the building.

Looking around the room, I noticed horrible paint on the walls, and the uneven cemented floor. When finally my gaze stumbled upon a figure on a mattress, I sighed in relief. By the brown hair, I knew this was Khloe Anderson. However, she was blindfolded, with both her hands and feet tied.

Chris and I rushed to her, using our knives to cut the ropes that are tying her hands and feet. Feeling her new sense of freedom, she sat up, pulling away the blindfold, and looking at us in confusion. I'm not able to see her so clearly from the terrible lighting, however, I can tell that she hasn't had a shower in a while. Have they even been feeding her? She's been here for almost three days- 66 hours to be exact. Enough time to go crazy by being in a building that could best be suited as an animal farm.

Moving to rest her back against the wall, she asks in confusion, "Who are you?"

"We work with your dad," I answered, looking at her carefully.

She nodded, looking around at her surroundings. "Are they-? Are they dead?" her voice quivered.

I nodded. "Yes." There was no point in lying to her. She'd heard the gunshots, and she would see the dead bodies of the men who had kidnapped her when we left this room. It's better to know now and prepare herself for what she's about to see.

She frowned, and I expected her to gasp, or be afraid- show some emotion. However, what she says has me frozen. "I'd wanted to kill the fatter one."

With a small chuckle, I asked, "He's the one who hit you?" She nodded, her hand unconsciously raising to caress her cheek. I noticed how bruised her left cheek was and I frowned. "More than once?" I asked, my anger getting the best of me.

"No, just once."

I relaxed. Looking around the room, I noticed a table resting against the wall, and looking closely, I saw a tray with an empty plate and glass on it.

"They fed you?" I asked, curiously.

She nodded, moving to stand up.

"We'll be leaving in a few minutes. Now we must I.D the men who kidnapped you." I stepped out of the room, with her following behind me. The dead bodies were being placed in body bags to be taken away to do as the government or military wishes.

"We did the prints," Lieutenant Anthony said as he zipped up the last body bag. He listed the names of the other dead bodies, however, I didn't recognize the others.

I nodded. "We should leave. The F.B.I will take care of this." With the general wanting to keep his daughter's kidnap from the public, the F.B.I would release an official statement about having caught Dave Sanchez in a drug bust or something of that sort. The Delta Forces will be left out, the bureau receiving all the credit. I personally liked the idea. I didn't need paparazzi knowing about me being a member of the Delta forces, or that I helped in the capture and murder of a man we'd searched for, for years. This is my personal life, which I wanted to keep personal forever.

We left the building and returned to the location of the helicopter. As we took off, I turned to look at Khloe, wondering how she's keeping up with all this. She never complained once or gave any indication that she was angry, but I knew she wasn't happy about such an experience either.

She kept to herself the entire flight, responding in monosyllables if asked a question. However, she didn't seem like the type to talk a lot. Just looking at her, I could tell that she's not one of those hungry for status chicks I associated myself with in the past. I wanted to go over and ask her something, to take her mind off all this.

She's worried. I could imagine how terrible such an experience is for her. She's possibly traumatized, but she didn't show it. She doesn't seem like the type to show much.

~**~

Khloe Anderson

I heard the gunshots like they were so close, yet so far away. I wanted to believe that it was my dad coming to rescue me. I hoped to get out of here as soon as possible. I could no longer take in the walls, the floors or that damn door being the most reassuring item in the room. Even the thought of staying here any longer had me all depressed.

A moment later, footsteps sounded outside the room. However, they didn't open the door. Then, I heard voices and the door was opened. I couldn't see anything. After my kidnappers had gotten their video, they'd blindfolded me before leaving. All that welcomed me was vast darkness that had started being annoying since I'd realized I was here alone.

When the footsteps sounded near, I noticed that there were persons in the room. Who entered the room? Was it the masked men again? Did they come to kill me this time? Or, did my dad send people to rescue me? I hoped it was the latter of the two. I still hadn't prepared myself for death. And I didn't want to.

I listened as they moved around the room, and when I heard the 'click', I knew that they'd turned on the light. The footsteps then rushed towards me, and I felt my tied hands being cut loose until I could appreciate my sense of freedom. As I sat up, I removed the blindfold, and I was greeted by two men standing over the mattress and a few others in the room's entrance. They were all dressed similarly in army uniforms, and I immediately recognized what I'd seen my dad wearing in many pictures. They all had headgear making it increasingly difficult to see their face. However, I could tell they were all tall.

When the one closest to me removed his headset, I silently gasped at the jet black hair and handsome facial features. I couldn't see all of him in the room's darkness, however, from what I saw, I knew my eyes couldn't deceive me.

He could easily be classified as a god with those high cheek bones and kissable lips. As quickly as I thought about this, I scolded myself for allowing my thoughts to overpower my commonsense. I knew I couldn't exactly be the most attractive woman in the world at the moment. I hadn't taken a bath in what could possibly be days. I'd like to believe I looked presentable enough to be in the presence of others.

~**~

When the helicopter touches down at what they said is a classified base, I notice my dad standing close by. If he was expecting a heartfelt welcome, that's not what he got.

Reaching up to him, I didn't accept his hug. I'm mad. And I don't think I see beyond my anger, but in the moment, I want to scream at him. Tell him how angry I am. "That's why I never wanted your job to intertwine with my personal life," I seethed. "That's why I moved away. So I could be away from you. But you just keep following me everywhere I go," I told him. "That man wanted you, and he took me instead because he couldn't get you. And for some reason, I wish it was you he had taken away so you would feel what it was being in that room locked away, and barely eating a meal. I wish you would've know what it felt to have someone raise their hand to your face."

He didn't answer. Actually, he looked beyond sorry.

I looked around at the small crowd that had gathered, and possibly noticing their presence, he barked out orders, and I watched them scurry off like little chickens.

"How about we go speak somewhere private?" he asks, but I didn't want to be here any longer.

I refused. "Actually I would like to go home now." It was about time I went home, and back to my shop. I knew my staff could handle themselves, ensuring that the business runs smoothly. Yet, I knew they would have to work extra hours just to keep the bakery and catering service open without me there.

"That's okay. Your mom would be happy to see you."

I frowned. "Dad, I'm going back to New York."

He scowled at me. "No you're not."

"Dad, I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I'm not a little girl anymore."

"But you'll always be my baby girl."

I knew that, and there was no arguing. He gave me everything I ever wanted as a child, and all I've ever wanted was space to grow up. H didn't seem to be letting go anytime soon. I'm 22. When will he be able to let go?

"Dad, eventually, you'll have to let go," I said, my voice a whisper. I knew he wanted to say more. However, he merely nodded in confirmation. "How will I get back to New York?" I ask.

He sighs. He knew I would never give up. I always got what I wanted. No matter how long it took. "Ask for Commander Novak." I saw the hurt in his eyes at me not coming home, but I have a business to run, and staff that needed me to be there for them.

"Dad, I'll come visit soon, but I need to get back to by business. I haven't been there in about three days." He nods, and opening his arms wide, I hold unto him tightly.

"I hate seeing your face like this," he said, his voice croaky, as he looked at my cheek where I'd been slapped.

I shrugged. "It will heal."

He nodded, and placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, he said, "Have a safe trip back, and call your mom."

I smiled, and nodded. "I will."

The base was huge, and I noticed that most of the buildings' structure was located underground. The more I walked down the halls trying to locate 'Commander Novak' as my dad had said, the more I got lost. Was it 'left and three doors down', or 'left and the first door?' I'd stopped to ask a number of officers for the location of whoever is supposed to be my ride home, and I still had no clue if I was heading in the right location.

When I went around a corner, finally about to give up, I ran straight into a wall. I frowned. Why is a wall around a corner? However, looking at the wall, I noticed that it wasn't an actual wall. It really was a man, with rippling muscles, and the more my gaze traveled upward, the more excited I got at what was to come. When my gaze finally landed on the most amazing hazel eyes, I gasped. I'd seen eyes before, but his were marvelous- almost magical. Looking closely, I recognized the same high cheekbones, and kissable lips that I'd seen in that awful room.

"H-Hi. I'm looking for Commander Novak," I stated.

He smirked. "That's me. Can I help you?" His voice was doing things to me, and I don't think I appreciated it. No one had ever affected me in such a manner. I'd never allowed them the satisfaction. However, this Commander Novak, with his looks and smirks was affecting me, and my mind.

Scolding myself, I frowned at the direction of my thoughts. "Actually yes. I need to get back to New York. Can I fly back with you?"

He nodded. "Yes. That's not a problem."

"Thanks."

~**~

I'd never felt happier being in New York City than the moment we landed. It felt amazing to be back. I couldn't wait to curl up under my covers, and sleep peacefully. However, that thought had me thinking about my apartment. Would it ever be the same again? I'd heard of people being traumatized after such experiences. Would I be able to stay in my apartment alone after this?

Would I live in constant fear that someone would break into my apartment to kidnap me? I didn't want that to be the case. Maybe I could move to a new apartment. However, I'd been at that building for over a year. I'd gotten used to being there. I didn't think I could appreciate another place as much as I loved my apartment.

"So where are you headed?" A voice asked, and I looked to my left where the Commander sat behind the wheel of the SUV.

Giving him the address of my apartment, I saw his face contort in confusion. "But that's your apartment address. Can't you go stay with someone for the time? Your apartment's not readily safe at this moment."

"Why? What's wrong?" I asked in confusion.

"Your apartment was ransacked by the men who took you."

"Oh," I said sadly. The men had probably done it after I'd been knocked out. "I could stay with my neighbour."

He nodded.

When we arrived at my apartment building, he got out to walk me safely to the door. If you'd asked me, there was no actual danger in walking up a few steps. The dangers had all been taken care of. However, he insisted. Knocking on my neighbour and good friend's door, Brad Hayes, I realize that he might not be home at the moment. He would normally be out with his friends on Sundays. However, I'm surprised when he opens the door dressed in a t-shirt and a sweatpants.

Shock, disbelief and surprise rushes across his face, and before I'm able to process it, his hands wrap around me, pulling me into a bone crushing hug.

"Can't b-breathe..." I trailed off, trying and failing to get air into my lungs.

"Khloe I was so worried," his eyes scans my body for any injuries, and when he sees my face, he looks angry. "What happened to your face?"

"It's nothing."

A throat cleared, interrupting us, and turning around, I noticed Commander Novak still standing there. He looks from Brad to me, not at all happy. At what, I had no idea.

"Who's this?" Brad asked, finally noticing Novak's presence, and sizing him up.

"This is...," I began, but was cut short.

"Logan Novak," he answered, his tone hard, and almost in a threatening voice.

Dante gasps. "Novak? As in Novak Industries?"

When Logan nods, I stare at him confused. He never actually told me his name. And if he's related to Liam and Mia Novak, then I see why giving anybody his name isn't a priority. He probably doesn't trust me. He thinks I would become his friend just so I can associate myself with the likes of him. If that's the case, he surely thought wrong.

"Can I stay here for the night?" I ask Brad, trying to change the topic.

He nods, moving aside so I can come in. However, he doesn't invite Logan in and I sigh in relief. I didn't want him coming inside. I'd only asked him for travel alongside him back to New York, and he'd insisted on giving me a ride home.

"I should get going," I hear Logan say as I stand in the hallway. Giving him a little wave, he nods, and leaves.

I sigh in relief when I can no longer see him. God knows I've never felt like this around any other guy. What about him is so special, anyway? He's probably just like the many rich men who slept around with any and every woman they met. And I bet he is. He's rich, and has the looks to match. He could get any girl he likes. What would make me so special? He wouldn't want a boring 5'5", plain girl like me when he could have all the models in the world if he wanted.

Scolding my brain for thinking about this, I look at Brad who's watching me in a weird manner. It's like he's trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together, and from his facial expression, it's not going successful.

"I'll take the couch," he offers. However, I'm not about to come uninvited to someone's house, and take their comfortable bed.

"No," I reply. "I'll take the couch."

He's about to refuse, but giving him my 'stare', he agrees. He disappears into his room, returning with a blanket, pillow and clothes that I can change into. I thank him, even though my apartment's downstairs and I can get any amount of clothes I want from there. Remembering Logan's description of my apartment, I decide against going down there. Maybe some other time. Not now.

After I've prepare for bed, I lay awake on the couch, in the silence of the living room thinking about what my life will be like going back to the way things were. In the morning, I would prepare to leave for my shop, and indulge myself in baking all sorts of delicious delicacies. In the morning, I would remind myself of the reasons why I decided to bake for a living. Why I loved doing what I do. And when I picked up the ingredients to bake, it would be like the first time all over again. Because although my life would be tainted by my experience, I will never allow my kidnappers the satisfaction that they've ruined my life.